Tuesday, February 12, 2013

I Want Bionic Legs!

This is SO me this morning!
  Good morning! I sort of skipped out on yesterday and am fighting the urge to skip out today as well. There just seems to be a distinct lack of humor in me right now. What can I say, I’m human?
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  Truth be told, my body sort of blew up at the beginning of December aaannndddd…it’s just kept imploding ever since!
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  What had been an annoying lack of muscle strength in a sort-of “side note” muscle group first progressed to a slightly more important group, as in the BIG-ARSE one on the thigh and on down? Yeah, my right leg went from lazy-leg to Jell-O leg. (YAY Jell-O!)
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  But wait, there’s more! (Just like all the REALLY good infomercials.) (Holy deep-fried frog legs on Rosemary and Garlic Triscuits, my life is an infomercial!!!)
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  The latest fun is that in the last couple of weeks, it’s moved to my arms. Spaghetti arms. As in over-cooked spaghetti, mind you. I’m thinking that if at this very moment someone attached an air compressor to my belly button? I’d look just like one of those Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man thingies!

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  Or, if I look at it from another direction, I am literally becoming Super Slug in every sense of the word. (I’m wondering if I can evolve the ability to ripple my torso the way a slug would as a back-up mobility thing. What do ya think? Yes…no…maybe?)
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  Needless to say, I’m doing my best to work through a certain amount of fear, anger, then back to fear. Ya know, what passes through a gal’s mind at a time like this is, well…what’s next? If you think about it, a heart is technically a muscle and I’m not real big on the thought of THAT one goin’ all “laying down on the job.”
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  My other huge concern is this, I use a cane to help me get around with the whole Jell-O leg stuff. I use it more as a load-bearing structure than the balance-assist it’s meant for. Umm…my arms turning to spaghetti pretty much mean if I lean on the cane to bear my load, my arms can’t do their part and SMACK! BAM! I’m face-down on the funky-floor of Wall-Mart.
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  I’m currently weighing my options if the new med Baby Face put me on doesn’t work. (He switched me to Cellcept, a lovely little immuo suppressant. For those of us who are so awesome that the only thing able to kick our ass is our own body.)
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  First off, I can go the scooter route. After all, I’ve already got the PERFECT design picked out.
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A Kayan Lahwi woman in Northern Thailand
  Then yesterday I had a thought…bionic legs! If the muscles turn to clamato sauce, why not finagle my way to a set of bionic legs!?! They’d support me AND I’d never have to shave them. It’s a win-win, right? (I’m telling ya, Lieutenant Dan would have NOTHIN’ on me!)
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And I swear right here and now…if this shiz-nit EVER hits my neck muscles? I am SO going the tribal neck-support route with the rows of brass coils around the neck. I will turn the crap into a flippin’ fashion statement!

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Hey, do ya think the brass coils would work on my legs…

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